


Love Goes On and On

by NachoKingZ



Category: RWBY
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Bumbleby Week 2020 (RWBY), Character Death In Dream, F/F, Fluff, Reincarnation, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-01
Updated: 2020-06-06
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:34:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 21,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24495094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NachoKingZ/pseuds/NachoKingZ
Summary: It all started with Blake (quite literally) bumping into Yang on a random Saturday night.What unfolds next is a tale as old as time.
Relationships: Blake Belladonna/Yang Xiao Long
Comments: 8
Kudos: 99





	1. Call Me Maybe

_ What am I even doing here? _ Blake wondered the moment she stepped into the dimly lit dive bar – the last place she would normally be on a Saturday night.

She cast a cautious sweeping gaze across the bar, her amber eyes adjusting to the awful mood lighting with relative ease – one of the perks of being a faunus. There wasn't much she could do about the hazy veil which lingered in the air and assaulted her sensitive nose with a mixture of cheap booze, sawdust, stale tobacco, and just a faint hint of weed, however.

_ Not a very romantic setting _ , she mused with a thin smirk, her feline ears twitching at the sound of the bar door opening behind her. She stepped aside for the pair of guys who just entered the bar, one of whom smiled at her until his eyes moved upward to her very noticeable faunus trait then let out an obvious fake cough before turning away and engaging in conversation with his partner. She scowled, wanting to say something, but then sighed.  _ Should've worn my bow. _

Maybe it was because of what happened just now – which really wasn't all that uncommon for Blake, even in a progressive city like Vale – but all of a sudden Blake wondered if going through with this blind date was such a good idea after all. Her stomach twisted into an uncomfortable knot; she didn't really know much about this person Sun insisted that she meet and only agreed to this date so that he would finally shut up about it.

_ What if he's... _ ? She started, but then she shook her head; if he was a racist then why would Sun be friends with him, and why would Sun bother setting up this blind date at all?  _ But even if they aren't, what if there's something  _ else  _ wrong with him – something that isn't so overt? What if – ? _

The memory of a face swam into Blake's mind's eye and invaded her thoughts: Dark red hair, piercing blue eyes that always looked at her with deep love but which belied barely concealed possessiveness, and a confident grin which he wore like a mask to hide his true nature. Blake shuddered, instinctively clutched both her mouth and her side, then forced herself to calm down and think rationally.

_There's no chance._ She told herself, swallowing the bile that had risen in her throat _._ She breathed deeply through her nose, held it, tried to ignore the icy chill creeping up her spine, then slowly exhaled. _There's no way Sun would even_ accidentally _set me up with someone who was even remotely_ _similar to_ him _...right?_

She nodded, took another deep breath, the sighed and headed for the first empty table or booth she could find to wait for her date. She found one, took a seat, then took out her scroll – no new messages from her date since the one from earlier when he'd texted her the bar's address, but she did have an encouraging text from Sun which was just a thumbs up emoji and the words, “You got this!”

She rolled her eyes and set her scroll down, then because she had no idea what she was supposed to do until her date arrived she picked up a menu to examine. The first item she noticed was the tuna melt, and her stomach uttered a faint growl which demanded she order this ASAP; it didn't help matters that she had been too nervous to eat anything since this morning.

She wondered if it would be rude to order something to eat before her date arrived, lightly cursing herself for not having much experience when it came to dating etiquette. Despite recently ending a five-year long relationship (although, she realized, it had been almost a full year since then), she hadn't been many outings that could be considered a “date” by traditional standards.

_Unless you count breaking into and vandalizing shops and restaurants that refused to serve faunus as a “date,”_ she snorted.

Her stomach tightened. She didn't like dwelling on that period in her life, but when she had nothing to distract herself her mind wandered there on its own. Everyone had a rebellious teenage phase – or at least, she'd been led to believe so by trashy YA novels and teen dramas – but hers had involved committing actual crimes in the name of what at the time she thought were justice...and love.

_Love._ The word echoed in her mind, but not in her voice – but rather, it was spoken in _his_ smooth, dulcet, commanding tone. _My love._

A violent shudder rocked her body, which she tried to suppress because she had enough wherewithal to remind herself that she was in a public place. She couldn't have a breakdown in the middle of a dive bar, she told herself. She needed to hold it together for now, until she got back home. She could do that, had been doing it rather successfully since her first day at Beacon Academy.

_What are you doing, my love?_ The angry ghost demanded. _You shouldn't be here, out with someone else. Why are you hurting me like this, Blake? Maybe I should hurt you, so that you understand how it feels._

Blake's eyes shot open; she didn't realize she had shut them, and was even more shocked to find that they were now swimming with hot, burning tears.

_ I can't do this!  _ She decided after wiping away as many of the tears as she could while also choking down the bile that had risen in the back of her throat.  _ I need to get out of here – now! _

She got up to leave, feeling the tears coming and the wall she'd built around her memories of and feelings about  _ him  _ breaking through.

“Oomph!”

Unfortunately, she'd been in such a rush to get out of this smoke-filled den that she hadn't been paying attention to anything but the neon exit sign and bumped into someone after taking only a few steps.

“Oh, grapes!”

After regaining her balance and doing her best to suppress the heat rising in her cheeks Blake got a good look at the person whom she'd nearly knocked over – and her jaw just about crashed to the sawdust covered wooden floor.

Standing in front of Blake was a young woman who looked about her age, whose long, wild golden mane and bright lilac eyes shined like a beacon in the dim light and smoky haze. She was taller than average, fit, and dressed in a style that Blake identified as “biker cowgirl”.

“I'm so sorry!” The young woman apologized, genuine concern for Blake on her strikingly beautiful face. “I was in a rush and...and...” Her voice trailed off, or rather to Blake it sounded like something caught in her throat.

Blake's heart, which was now lodged firmly in her throat, skipped a beat. She hoped that the woman's sight wasn't as good as hers and that the dim lighting was keeping hidden the fact that her cheeks were now fully on fire. She tried looking away from this stunning beauty if only to have a chance to calm down and gather her thoughts, but her eyes refused to look away for even a second.

“Blake.” When the blonde spoke her name it wasn't a question or a confirmation, but spoken with a warm familiarity.

This shook Blake for reasons she couldn't explain to even herself. She had never heard this person speak before now, but her voice resonated in her ears like a favorite old song that she hadn't heard in ages: Warm, pleasant, and familiar, and something she could listen to for hours on repeat.

The blonde gave a small start, lilac eyes widening to double in size, gave herself a vigorous shake, then asked with a friendly grin, “Um, you're Blake right?”

“Um, yeah, I am,” Blake nodded; she was suddenly, painfully aware of how dry her throat had become. She did her best to return the woman's smile. “And you are...?”

“Oh, right! Haha, sorry! I'm Yang, Yang Xiao Long! Nice to meet'cha!” She stuck out her hand, using the other to rub the back of her neck.

Blake took Yang's hand, and stifled a gasp at how warm, strong, and  _ natural  _ the touch of Yang's palm and the gentle squeeze of their handshake felt to her. The warmth spread up her arm and coursed through the rest of her body, with the handshake lasting longer than it should have because Blake's hand outright refused to let go of Yang's regardless of how awkward this must have been.

“It's a pleasure to meet you, Yang,” she said, forcing herself to not smile like an idiot over how wonderful speaking the blonde's name felt.

They stood frozen, holding hands and staring at each other in the middle of what had suddenly become a crowded and noisy bar for far too long, but neither of them seemed to be in any hurry to shatter the illusory bubble they found themselves inhabiting – or at least, Blake wasn't.

Eventually though Yang broke the comfortably warm but somehow equally awkward silence between them and asked, “So, what'cha doing in a place like this all by yourself? Or, are you waiting for someone?”

Blake knew it had been a long shot bordering on an impossibility, but with this perfectly innocent question her faint hope had been dashed. Of  _ course  _ Yang wasn't her blind date, she scolded herself; for starters, the person Sun had insisted on setting her up with was a guy, a friend he'd met at Mistral Academy before he transferred to Beacon Academy last semester, and his name wasn't “Yang.”

But then, Blake wondered, how did Yang know who she was? Did they have any classes together at Beacon? Admittedly Blake didn't pay as much attention to her classmates or her surroundings as she should have, and more often than not had her nose buried in a book between classes. But she chose to give herself enough credit that she would definitely notice someone like Yang!

“Um, Blake?” Yang asked in an attempt to get her attention, and Blake's cheeks burned even hotter at the realization that she had just been staring at Yang's face for several long seconds without uttering a sound.

“Oh. Um, yeah, actually I'm kinda...on a blind date,” she said, unsure why she felt so bad admitting this to Yang, a total stranger. “Well,  _ supposed _ to be. I'm still waiting for him to actually show up.”

“Oh.” Yang looked crestfallen, the radiant aura that had been surrounding her from the moment Blake ran into her fading away considerably. She recovered quickly though, and said with a bright grin, “Well, I'll let you get back to waiting. It was nice bumping into you, let's do it again sometime!”

Grinning and waving the blonde turned away, but before she could stop herself Blake's hand darted out and took Yang by the wrist; once again a pleasant burn erupted in her palm as soon as their skin made contact and she almost pulled away, but she held on as if her life depended on it.

“Actually!” She said, her voice at least half an octave higher than normal. “I wouldn't mind some company while I wait! Um, if you'd like!”

“Sure!” Yang agreed without hesitation, turning back to face Blake with a wide, beaming, practically blinding grin. “Go grab a seat and I'll get us a couple of drinks!”

Blake raised an eyebrow.

“Non-alcoholic of course!” Yang assured her before rushing off in the direction of the bar. She smiled, watching the blonde's mane swish behind her like a beautiful golden dragon's tail until the haze and crowd made it impossible for even her enhanced vision to keep track of Yang's movements.

She sighed, her feline ears twitching happily, and returned to the table she'd been sitting at earlier. She had no idea why, but the prospect of getting to spend even a bit more time hanging out with Yang felt far more inviting and less nerve-wracking than the thought of doing the exact same thing with Sun's friend, who was every bit a stranger to her as Yang was.

_ But we  _ do  _ know each other,  _ she told herself as she took her seat.  _ Or at least, Yang seems to know me. Should I be worried about that? _

_ “You're Blake, right? Ghira Belladonna's daughter?” _

The ghost's voice echoed clear as if he had just whispered them directly into her ear; those were the first words he'd ever spoken to her, and in retrospect she should have heeded them as the red flag that they eventually proved themselves to be. Should she treat Yang's question the same way as she should have back then, she wondered?

“Blake?”

Blake was startled out of her grim contemplation by the sound of someone calling her name. She turned in the direction of the voice, half-expecting to see Yang holding their drinks and grinning, but had to quickly hide her disappointment when she saw that the person who'd called her was a sharply dressed young man with short blue hair and eyes, smiling confidently at her.

“You're Blake, right?” The young man asked again, taking the empty seat next to her without being invited to do so. “I recognized you by the pic Sun sent, and I gotta say: Pictures do  _ not  _ do a hottie like you justice! Wow!”

Blake fought the urge to roll her eyes and cringe away from such a lame pickup line; so this was Neptune, Sun's old friend from Mistral? Sun had warned her that he might come on a bit too strongly but that he was a good guy at heart, and she trusted Sun's earnest judge of character more than she did just about anyone else.

And so she merely smiled and said, “Um, yeah. Nice to meet you, Neptune.”

“And it is  _ veeeeery  _ nice to meet you, kitty cat~!” Neptune purred, which made Blake's stomach turn unpleasantly. “What do ya say we – ?”

“Yeah, no, this isn't going to happen.” Blake cut him off, shaking her head. “Sorry, but you should go. Now.”

She hadn't meant for that to come out as rudely as it sounded even in her own ears, but in just the first minute of their conversation Sun's friend had violated her cardinal rule: She _loathed_ being called “kitten”, “kitty”, or any variation of that particular pet name, especially by strangers. And tonight especially, she did _not_ have the patience to be polite about it.

Neptune balked. He took a moment to regain his composure then asked, “Was it something I said?”

“No, it was  _ everything  _ you said. And are. And might possibly be. And honestly, on any other night I might have found you tolerable in a  _ seriously  _ cringy way and given you a chance if only for Sun's sake, but tonight I am just NOT in the mood.”

Neptune shrugged and said as he stood up, “Hey, no biggie. Can I at least buy you a drink as an apology for whatever it is I did?”

“No, thanks.”

Neptune looked as if he was about to insist on this, but then a couple of attractive young women walked past their table and he seemed to immediately get over Blake cutting their blind date short.

“Ladies.” He tried to get their attention by smoothly calling out to them, and when they didn't respond he followed after them.

_ I question Sun's taste in friends, and what he thinks  _ my  _ taste in men is. Although, he  _ does  _ only have the one example... _

She let out a dry, humorless laugh. Sun knew better than anyone how badly her previous and thus far only relationship had messed with her. Maybe he'd tried to set her up with Neptune for a laugh, knowing that nothing was going to happen between them and therefore he was the perfect first ice-breaking step back into the big scary world of dating? A pallet cleanser, as they say.

_ Or maybe I'm giving that dork way too much credit.  _ She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose and letting out a much more genuine laugh.

“Sorry for taking so long!” Yang's voice cut through her thoughts a couple minutes later. Blake opened her eyes at the pleasant tone, and found herself staring at a sealed bottle of Sunflower Drop soda.

She smiled and said, “It's fine, and thanks.”

“Cheers!” Yang raised her bottle, Blake mimicked the gesture, and they clinked them together. Yang popped off her cap and downed half of the fizzy drink in a single gulp. “Man, that's the good stuff!”

Blake giggled, carefully opened her own bottle and took a polite sip; she wasn't much of a soda drinker, but she doubted this bar had a very good tea selection and so had to make due. The sweet bubbly liquid had a distinct citrus taste and burned her throat on the way down, but all in all it wasn't that bad!

After a few more sips she said, “Can I ask you something?”

“Heh, I think you just did. But I'll allow another question!” Yang replied, grinning so proudly of her dumb comment that Blake was instantly put at ease.

She rolled her eyes then asked, her intestines twisting into a tight ball despite being comforted by Yang's smile and easy demeanor, “So, um, how exactly do you know me?”

Yang stopped with her soda bottle halfway to her lips, set it back down, then said while rubbing the back of her neck with her free hand, “Well grapes, this is where things get awkward, hehe.”

This statement did nothing to alleviate the horrible knots in Blake's stomach.

Yang sighed, opened her mouth to speak, immediately closed it, cleared her throat, then tried speaking again but all that came out were odd semi-choking noises and squeaks. Embarrassed by this she took another long drink of soda and ended up finishing the whole thing, then sighed again.

While Blake found this gap between the confident aura Yang exuded and the sheer ball of awkwardness she actually seemed to be cute and charming in its own way, she couldn't help but worry that this was a bad sign for however Yang was about to explain how she knew Blake but Blake didn't know her.

“The truth is that I don't  _ technically  _ know you,” Yang confessed, grinning sheepishly. “I mean, we have a bunch of classes together and I've seen you eating lunch alone and reading in the library plenty of times but this is the first time we've ever actually talked.”

“Oh!” Blake let out a surprised noise. That was such a mundane, reasonable explanation that she felt foolish for thinking it could be anything else; not everyone who knew her or wanted to get to know her had a sinister ulterior motive for doing so, and that would have been obvious to anyone else. She took a long, burning sip of soda then said, “Yeah, that makes sense.”

“Sorry if that sounds weird or like I'm stalking you,” Yang laughed. “I'm not, by the way, just to make that clear!”

“Haha, it's fine,” Blake smiled, setting her drink down to fidget with the ring she kept on a thin silver chain around her neck like a necklace. “I'm more sorry that I'm basically a ghost on campus and that I haven't noticed you...n-noticing me.” What the hell did she just say?

“But what are the odds, though?” Yang chuckled, going for another sip before frowning at her empty bottle. “I don't come here too often, and you don't really seem like this is your kinda scene.”

“It really isn't.” Blake shook her head, suppressing a smirk at the realization that it was thanks to Neptune and their failed date that she was having this conversation with Yang in the first place.

“And yet here we are, hanging out for the first time in some crappy out of the way dive bar after going to the same school for a whole year.”

“Life's funny like that.” Blake smiled, lowering her gaze to her ring.

“To life!” Yang raised her empty soda bottle, with Blake giggling and doing the same for another celebratory clink.

After that they spent the rest of the night talking about everything and nothing in particular: Class, work, family, and other mundane topics. And Blake couldn't remember the last time she had this much fun laughing and talking with someone who wasn't that dork Sun.

“Shoot, I should probably get going.” Yang said as she checked her scroll; it was just after midnight, but Blake hadn't noticed the passage of time at all. “Nora's gonna call in about five hours for our morning workout, then show up at my apartment ten minutes later if I don't answer.”

“Nora?” A pang of something unfamiliar pricked Blake's heartstrings, while something unpleasant lodged itself in her throat. “Is she, um, your g-girlfriend?”

“Pfft, Nora? Nah!” Yang laughed. “I mean, I definitely wouldn't say no if she offered, but nah, she's my best bud and sparring partner. Plus she has a boyfriend...I think.”

“You think?” Blake snorted, partly out of relief.

“They're...complicated!” Yang shrugged and grinned. “And speaking of boyfriends or whatever, weren't you supposed to be meeting someone here?”

Blake had completely forgotten about Neptune and would have told anyone who asked that the date (with Yang) had been the best, most relaxed night of her life in recent memory. So she was entirely grateful that Yang had shattered that illusion for her before they departed.

“Oh. Right. I guess I got stood up.” She chuckled.

“Pssh, what a jerk!” Yang exclaimed. But then she smiled, “Well, it's his loss!”

“Yeah.” Blake smile, absentmindedly twirling the ring between her fingers. “Or maybe, it was exactly what I needed.” She said this bit so low that she doubted Yang heard her, which she didn't mind in the least.

“Oh, that's a pretty necklace!” Yang said in awe, leaning in a bit closer to get a better look; Blake was tempted to jump back if only so that Yang couldn't hear how loudly this simple gesture was making her heart beat! “A memento from an ex, or maybe the one that got away?”

“Mm, closer to the latter, but still not quite,” Blake explained. “It's sort of an heirloom, or a good luck charm, or a reminder that things will get better. It's a long story, actually.”

“I'd love to hear about it next time.” Yang delivered this line so smoothly and with such a charming, confident grin that Blake didn't think twice about the implication behind her words; after all, it was only natural to her that they would hang out again after tonight.

They exchanged numbers, Yang offered to give Blake a ride home on her motorcycle but Blake told her that Sun (whom she quickly and fumblingly explained was her most platonic of best friends) was on his way to pick her up, and then they parted ways with the promise that from now on Blake wouldn't be so much of a ghost on campus and that they would get together again soon.

But before leaving the bar, and after making sure that Yang was no longer in sight, Blake carefully slipped her Sunflower bottle cap into her pocket, wanting a small token to remember this night by.

She smiled, feeling like an idiot for wanting to keep literal trash as a trinket but also not caring. If nothing else, tonight had proven to her that she could go out and have fun without having to live in constant fear of the shadow of the ghost that had been haunting her for over a year, tainting every other part of her life. And she wanted a piece of tonight, of this wonderfully warm sensation of finally moving forward, to stay with her...even if it only last for a little while.


	2. Ain't Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's only been a month since they met, but something just feels too right to ignore.
> 
> Is it time to take the next step?

A faint buzzing noise reached Blake's ears, cutting through her sleepy thoughts and gently pulling her into the waking world. Slowly she was made consciously aware of the warmth in her cheeks, the whimpering purrs rolling from her lips, and the bittersweet ache in her chest. She determinedly kept her eyes shut to hold on to the last wisps of the dream she'd been having.

Eventually, the last flickering image of Yang grinning at her in the way that made her heart skip multiple beats in a row – which is to say, her normal jovial smile – and the lush, vibrant, sun filled private garden that served as the setting of her dream faded away into the recesses of her mind. She was fully awake, and there was nothing she could do about it.

She sighed, rolled onto her stomach and buried her face in her pillow, then let out a muffled chuckle. It had been a month since the night she quite literally bumped into Yang at a bar, which had sparked their budding friendship. But in that time they'd spent every day together in some capacity: Whether it was sitting next to each other in class (she and Yang shared three classes this semester), eating lunch and hanging out on campus between classes, or texting each other until much later in the night than either of them should have still been awake, just about every minute of Blake's life had been dedicated to thoughts of Yang.

_ Almost like we're making up for lost time.  _ She allowed a tender smile to cross her lips.

And she had to admit (though she would only do so to herself) that one of the main reasons she enjoyed being with Yang was because when they were together it was as if Yang's brightly shining golden aura acted like a nightlight which kept a certain angry ghost at bay. When she was with Yang she didn't think about  _ him _ , couldn't feel his malicious presence lingering in the air, and it was only in her quietest, most vulnerable Yang-free moments did she even begin to sense his ever diminishing presence.

She sighed again, rolled onto her side and grabbed her scroll. In her sleep haze she'd thought the buzzing noise was her alarm clock going off, but it turned out that she had a new unread message.

**Yang:** Goooood morning beeautiful~!

She chuckled, rolled her eyes and muttered “Dork” under her breath; she didn't want to admit just how happy such a simple greeting made her.

**Blake:** Oh gods are you a morning person?

While she waited for Yang's reply she rolled out of bed, picked out today's outfit, and took a quick shower. She wasn't in any hurry as her first class of the day wasn't until nine (a conscious decision, as Blake was most definitely  _ not  _ a morning person), so once she finished showering and getting dressed she fixed herself a hot cup of tea and two slices of toast. And with breakfast in hand she checked her scroll.

Sure enough Yang had written back – and according to the timestamp her reply had come less than a minute after Blake had sent hers.

**Yang:** Technically yes? Gotta get my morning workout in! I take it you're not?

**Blake:** Nope. Don't talk to me before 10AM, and not until I've had at least three cups of tea

**Yang:** Oh. Well it's only 7:45 – should I not text you back until after 10? :P

**Blake:** I'll allow it. You can be the exception. No else though

**Yang:** Booyah! In everyone else's faces!

**Blake:** Dork

**Yang:** Maybe, but I'm  _ your  _ dork!

Blake choked on her tea, coughing and sputtering and getting a few flecks of brown liquid on her screen. She knew Yang didn't mean that in the romantic sense, but her heart jumped into her throat and then did a backflip all the same; she was eternally grateful that they weren't video chatting, because she was fairly certain that her cheeks were on fire now!

_ Calm down!  _ She scolded her thundering heart, but to make matters worse her mind played a recorded snippet of last night's dream: She and Yang were sitting in a garden, her head nestled into Yang's strong yet pillow soft shoulder, basking in the warm spring sunlight and not saying a word but just enjoying each other's company. Her cheeks burned even deeper.

**Yang:** Hey, are you busy tonight?

**Blake:** Mm, not that I know of. Why?

**Yang:** Wanna come over and hang out after I get off work?

Blake's eyes widened and very nearly popped right out of their sockets; at least she'd already finished her tea and toast before reading Yang's newest text! At the same time her heart started hurting in a way she had quickly realized could only be caused by intense thoughts of Yang – specifically, of the vague future beyond the veil of them being “just friends.”

She couldn't help it, her brain was too full of countless trashy romance novels, manga, and anime that she had been consuming since before she'd been too young to understand complex concepts like “love” and “forever”. She could envision Yang asking her out, or her suddenly blurting her feelings for Yang, or the two of them coming to the mutual understanding that they were dating.

But that was just wishful thinking on her part, wasn't it? Delusional fantasies brought on by spending too much time with the first person who'd actually made her feel genuinely good, safe, and happy in gods knew how long. Hell, for a brief period during the first few months they'd been hanging out she'd had similar thoughts and feelings about  _ Sun _ , and now after a year of friendship she couldn't imagine  _ any  _ scenario in which they would work as a couple!

_ A crush _ . She told herself.  _ That's all this is: Just a crush. It'll pass. _

Besides, there was no guarantee that Yang shared her feelings. During their many conversations she'd dropped quite a few names: Coco Adel, an upperclassman who had a bit of a reputation as a heart breaker; Pyrrha Nikos, multi-sport star athlete who had been shattering records (and hearts) since freshman year; and even Weiss Schnee, heiress to the infamous Schnee Corporation. Yang was friends with all of them and several other exceptional women, and spoke about them in such high regard that Blake couldn't help but wonder if there were  _ other  _ feelings involved as well.

_ You barely know each other.  _ She reminded herself, fingers still hovering over her keyboard and hesitant to accept the invitation.  _ Sure you spend just about all your free time together, but maybe she's just being extra nice, keeping the stray company. _

She sighed. Why was she overthinking this? This was nothing more than one friend inviting another to hang out – simple as that!

**Blake:** Sure. What time?

The three minutes she spent waiting for Yang's response were the longest, most agonizing three minutes of her life (they really weren't, not by a long shot, but somehow they felt more painful and stress inducing than the night she spent hiding from Vale Police in an abandoned warehouse after they'd been caught breaking into a high-end restaurant notorious for shady business practices regarding its faunus employees).

**Yang:** I get off at 9, so let's say around 9:30?

**Blake:** Sounds good. It's a date.

**Yang:** Sweet! See ya then~ <3 k, bout to get ready for work, talk to ya later!

Blake stared at the message, at the perfectly innocent heart emoji Yang had used, at the fact that she didn't freak out or try to clarify whether or not this was actually a date. Was that in itself confirmation, she wondered? Were they on the same emotional wavelength, and was tonight going to be the start of something wonderful, something Blake wasn't even sure that she was truly ready to happen?

“...ugh, this is gonna be a  _ long  _ day!” She groaned, slamming her forehead onto the cool surface of her small kitchen table. “I need a second opinion.”

And in matters like this, there was only person whose opinion she truly trusted – for better or worse!

* * *

“It's definitely a date.” Sun said with a matter of fact tone.

“You're delusional,” Blake rolled her eyes. “In what universe can this be interpreted as a date?”

“In  _ this  _ universe – the one where she asked you out on a date and you said yes.”

They were sitting on a bench in the Beacon Academy courtyard, the mid-morning sun warming Blake's skin. Ordinarily she'd be relaxing underneath a nice shady tree or in the library with a good book, passing the time peacefully while waiting for her next class to start. But today she was with Sun Wukong, her best friend/emotional support, trying to convince him to convince her that her hangout with Yang was  _ not  _ a date.

“If this is a date, then I have to cancel.” Blake decided.

“Huh? How come?” Sun demanded, then took a big bite of the apple he'd been munching on while Blake had been talking.

Blake shrugged and said, “Because I don't  _ want  _ it to be a date. Not yet. It's too soon.”

“Okay, then just say it's not a date. No need to cancel.”

“But what if she gets upset? What if I ruin the possibility of us dating in the future because I told her that this particular occasion isn't a date? What if she gets the wrong idea that I don't like her?”

“So then you  _ do  _ like her!” Sun exclaimed, but before he could get the last word out she clamped one hand over his mouth and glared daggers at him.

“ _ Yes _ !” She hissed, scowling deeply. “I like her. I like spending time with her. I like when she sends me random texts or stupid memes or surprises me with pictures she took of her smiling face. I really,  _ really  _ like her, Sun!”

Sun said something, but as her hand was still latched firmly over his mouth it came out as muffled gibberish. She rolled her eyes and took her hand away so that he could speak.

“So if you like her, why don't you want this to be a date?” He asked, a genuinely curious expression on his stupidly handsome face.

Blake hesitated then sighed, “Because then what? What comes after that?”

“Um, you have a hot, blonde, totally badass girlfriend who makes you happier than I've seen you in a really long time?”

_ He's not wrong. _ She tried to hide the sheepish grin and thrilled  _ badump  _ of her heart at the prospect of being able to call Yang her girlfriend.

“Come on, Blake, you know what you wanna do.” Sun said, patting her shoulder. “Stop overthinking and just enjoy your date, even if it's not really a date.”

She sighed again. Sun was a dork, but he was an honest dork who could talk her down and speak over the voices in her head when she really needed it.

“You're right. Thanks, Sun.”

“That's what I'm here for!” Sun puffed out his bare chest; he seemingly only owned button-up shirts that he refused to actually button up. “But by the way, why didn't you just text her back asking if this was actually supposed to be a date?”

Blake didn't say anything, but her faunus ears flattening against the top of her head was a dead giveaway; why _hadn't_ she done that, she wondered.

“Girls are weird!” Sun declared, shrugging and taking another bite of his apple.

Blake scowled and started to retort, but instead heaved a big sigh and took out her scroll and opened her conversation with Yang.

**Blake:** Hey. About tonight. Is this supposed to be – or rather, do you _want_ it to be

She hesitated, face burning, heart racing a mile a minute, and Sun not helping matters by watching her discomfort and snickering. She erased the message she'd already written and started over, determined to sound as casual as possible despite the fact that her heart was threatening to burst out of her chest like a baby alien.

**Blake:** So, is tonight our first official date?

She hit send, then immediately regretted it. Did that message sound too forceful, or expectant?

**Yang:** If you want it to be~ <3

Blake stared at Yang's response, eyes wide, feline ears perked up and twitching excitedly, and mouth slightly agape.

“Well that settles that!” Sun, who had moved behind Blake without her noticing and was leaning over her shoulder, said with a big big dorky grin. “Told ya it was a date!”

Ignoring him Blake, her mind and heart clearer than either had been all morning, replied with “I do” before sliding her scroll back into her pocket and burying her face in her hands – if only so that Sun couldn't her massive, red-faced grin.

* * *

The rest of the day passed in a strange blurry haze, with Blake hardly able to focus on anything except the thought of what awaited her on the other side of tonight. And before she knew it Sun was dropping her off at Yang's apartment complex jokingly asking if she needed him to pick her up or if she was going to spend the night. And a few minutes after that she was standing in front of Yang's closed door with no recollection of how she got there.

_This is it._ She told herself, adjusting the hem of her shirt, fidgeting with her hair and the ring around her neck.

Before she could knock on the dark wood door it swung open, and she let out a small gasp as Yang appeared in the doorway dressed in an orange tank top and light gray sweatpants, her golden mane done up in a ponytail; even now she looked amazing, and Blake felt overdressed despite being in just a plain black T-shirt and jeans.

“Hey!” Yang threw her arms around Blake and pulled her into a welcoming hug without a second thought, with Blake doing her best to remain composed and not melt in Yang's warm embrace. “Welcome to Casa de Xiao Long! Make yourself at home!”

Blake nodded and followed Yang inside once they broke the hug. The apartment wasn't very big, maybe the same size as Blake's, and aside from framed pictures of her family and a few band posters on the walls everything was pretty bare.

“Sorry I'm a bit under dressed; I'd just gotten out of the shower when you texted that you were outside.” Yang apologized as they made their way to the black leather couch that faced the wall mounted flat screen TV. “If you gimme a sec I can go change into something more...date appropriate?”

“N-No! It's fine, you look great!” Blake insisted.

Given the expression on Yang's face one might have assumed that Blake had just proposed marriage to her instead of giving her a simple compliment. Those vibrant lilac pools of light filled with an emotion Blake couldn't describe but which made her heart race and sent a pleasant chill down her spine. Yang's smile was almost too bright to stare at directly, but Blake would be damned if she looked away for even a second.

“Do you want something to drink?” Yang offered after another few moments of silently staring at each other passed, sounding like she was trying to dislodge something from her throat while remaining light and casual.

“Water?” Blake wasn't sure why that came out as a question, but she was very aware of how dry and cracked her throat felt.

“One water, coming right up!” Yang dashed off to the kitchen, leaving Blake alone in the living room and unsure of what to do with herself in the meantime.

So she got up and walked around the living room, admiring Yang's family photos. She stopped to examine one photo in particular that featured Yang (who looked adorable in pigtails and with one of her front teeth missing) grinning from ear to ear with a smaller dark haired girl next her sitting on a tricycle and looking equal parts excited and utterly terrified. Behind them was a beautiful woman with dark hair and silver eyes, one arm around each girl.

“What'cha doin'~?” Yang's smooth voice whispered into her ear, causing her to jump and let out a surprised hiss. The blonde doubled over laughing at this reaction before choking out a strained, “I'm sorry!”

Blake glared daggers at her but couldn't stay mad at that infectious smile and angelic laugh for long. She rolled her eyes then asked, “Your mom and sister?”

“Yup!” Yang grinned proudly. She handed Blake a bottle of water then said as they made their way to the couch, “Summer Rose was the best mom in all of Remnant: Baker of cookies and slayer of giant monsters!”

“Giant monsters?” Blake raised a suspicious eyebrow.

“Damn right!” Yang insisted, plopping down on the couch. “Not one time in six years did any of the monsters in my closet or under my bed get to me, cuz Summer got all of _them_ first and kicked their butts!”

Blake laughed. “Six? Is that how old you were when you realized there's no such thing as monsters?”

“Not exactly,” Yang's expression clouded over a bit, and it looked like she was fighting back tears. “That was...that was how long I got to have her as my mom.”

It took Blake a second to register what Yang had just told her, but when it finally sank in her eyes widened and she blurted out, “Oh, Yang I'm so sorry! I – !”

“It's okay.” Yang gave her a reassuring smile, but the warmth of the expression didn't quite reach those sorrow filled lilac orbs. “But yeah, she was great. The best. I see a lot of Ruby, my baby sister, in her – more and more each day.”

“Are you two close?” Blake asked, eager to shift subjects.

“I'd like to think so,” Yang smiled fondly. “After Summer died and our dad sorta...shut down for a while, it was pretty much just the two of us. We looked out for each other, ya know?”

Blake nodded, though she didn't really understand: Both her parents were still alive and well living in Menagerie, and the closest thing she had to siblings were Sun and her friend Ilia.

“Sorry, this is pretty heavy stuff for a first date huh?” Yang chuckled. “Although to be honest, when I asked you to come over I wasn't really expecting it to be a date at all.”

Blake's heart sank; so this _wasn't_ supposed to be a date, and Yang had only agreed to make it one because she didn't want to make her feel weird.

“Oh,” was all she could think to say, her feline ears drooping. “I...”

A moment later, before she had enough time to spiral into a depressive funk, Blake felt a warm pressure on her right hand, followed by a gentle squeeze – _Yang was holding her hand!_

“But I'm glad you're braver than me and decided to make it one.” Yang smiled, and Blake's heart simply could not take the one-two punch of this blonde beauty's soft expression while holding her hand like this!

“I wasn't so much 'brave' as I was...an overthinking, self-doubting mess who got talked into asking if this was a date by her best friend. It's really him you – _we_ should be thanking.”

“Noted.” Yang gave her hand another squeeze.

Blake didn't know (or care) when it happened, but at some point in the last few seconds they had become incredibly close, close enough for Yang to put her arm around her shoulder. As always with everything she and Yang did, this felt so perfectly natural to Blake that she didn't question whether or not they were moving too fast.

“Okay, so!” Yang declared after a few minutes of them cuddling in blissful silence. “Since I revealed something extremely personal on our first date, I think it's only fair that you spill something as well Miss Belladonna!”

Blake chuckled and asked, “You sure about that? I don't want to scare you off with all my baggage.”

“I don't scare easily, and I'm offended at your insinuation that I do!” Yang stuck out her tongue, and Blake rolled her eyes.

“Okay, well, let's see...” She closed her eyes, contemplating. “Before enrolling at Beacon Academy I was...involved with someone.”

_Stop._ Her mind ordered. _Don't go down this path. It's too soon._

“Oh?” Yang raised an eyebrow. “Were you two, um, _serious?_ ”

“Pretty serious, yeah.” Blake nodded. “We were together for two years, but I'd known him since I was twelve and he was...well, a few years older.”

“How much older?”

Blake averted her gaze, flattening her ears against the top of her head. “Old enough that it should have been an immediate red flag.”

“Oh.”

“Yup.” Blake nodded and continued. “At first I admired him. He was brave, cool, fierce, passionate, and determined to fight for Faunus Rights. And before long those feelings of admiration evolved into something more – something that my heart told me was _love._ ”

A golf ball sized lump of ice formed in Blake's throat and slid all the way down, chilling her to the core as the memories swam into her mind's eye: Of the night they met when he walked her home after a Faunus Equality rally, sneaking out of the house to meet up with him in private, that warm spring evening when she finally worked up the nerve to confess her feelings, their first kiss the night before her first “mission” with him, and they first time they...

A surge of bile rose in the back of her throat, which she did her best to keep down; she'd been explaining all of this to Yang but had to stop mid-sentence.

“Blake?” Yang interlaced their fingers and gave her a firm squeeze, deep concern in her voice and reflected in her eyes.

Blake shook her head, choked back the acidic bile singeing her throat, then took a deep breath and said, “I'm alright. But over those two years, he changed. Slowly at first, but in time the mask I'd fallen in love with slipped completely off and I saw what was underneath. I stayed though, whether out of love or loyalty or...or fear, I stayed with him no matter how much he changed. That is, until the night I couldn't stay anymore...”

She hesitated, suddenly finding it harder to breathe or think straight. What she was about to do, she had never done voluntarily: The police needed it for evidence, and her parents had been with her in the hospital room. She'd known Sun for over a year, trusted him more than she trusted anyone, but she'd never told him this story or shown him the aftermath.

But this was Yang, and in the little time they'd known each other she had become so important to her. She could trust her, wanted her to see every ugly imperfection in the hopes that she would accept her, and this – her greatest secret, her deepest shame – was as close to Blake giving her heart to someone as she had gotten since the first time when she was fifteen years old.

Her fingers trembling, blood pounding in her ears, and fighting back the tears she knew would eventually come, she lifted up her shirt just enough to expose the X shaped scar right above her left hip.

“The night I told him I'd finally had enough and that I wanted to leave him, we got into an argument and...he did this.” She looked away, unsure what expression Yang would make and even more uncertain if she wanted to see it. “ _This_ is what it took for me to finally understand what I'd gotten into, what I almost didn't get out of alive, and what I've carried with me for over a year and will likely continue to do so for a very long time, if not for the rest of my life.”

She lowered her shirt, closed her eyes and took a deep breath. That was it. She had been so unsure if she was ready to take the next step with Yang, but had taken such a tremendous leap of faith into the unknown. But now she wanted – _needed_ to know, would Yang be there to catch her?

She exhaled and turned back to face her date.

“And that's as heavy as it gets with me.” She said. “So, are you scared now?”

Yang didn't say anything at first, and her expression was unreadable. For one heart-stopping moment Blake thought she saw genuine fear and... _disgust_ reflected in the blonde's eyes.

But then it all vanished, and a gentle, reassuring smile spread across that angelic face, and all the doubt disappeared from both her eyes and Blake's heart.

“I told you, I don't scare easily.”

Blake didn't know what came over her. She hadn't planned on it, had planned on taking things at a snail's pace, for her own safety. But here, now, with Yang staring at her like that, it felt like the right thing to do – as if they had done it a thousand times before, but also like it was the first time.

Her heart beating wildly, time speeding up and slowing down in equal measures, and no longer questioning her instincts, she closed the distance between them in a single quick movement, and pressed her lips against the unsuspecting Yang's. A burst of intense heat exploded in her chest, flowed through her veins like molten lava, and melted down to her core, where it enveloped her heart and soul in a protective gold casing.

Did the kiss only last a few seconds, or a few hours? Was it the first time? Or just another in a series of thousands? It didn't matter to either of them, only that it was happening and would be happening again.

And for now, that was all that mattered.


	3. I Knew I Loved You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blake and Yang have been together for six months, and things are going well.
> 
> But lately, Blake has been having strange, terrifying dreams.
> 
> Dreams that feel too real to be mere figments of her unconscious imagination.

_ “Catch your breath. I'll hold him off.” _

_That confident smile, the reassurance in her tone, and the concern for Blake reflected clear as day in those shimmering lilac pools of light. Blake had no reason to not believe that Yang could handle herself._

_But then, why did her chest hurt so badly? Why was every nerve in her body screaming at her to not let Yang go? Yang was strong, she was capable, she was brave – much braver than anyone could have expected her to be in a situation like this. She was a fighter, a fierce golden dragon fueled by her own determination and the bond of the promise they shared._

_And yet, deep in her heart of hearts, Blake knew that it wouldn't be enough. She needed Yang to stay by her side, where it was safe, where they could protect each other._

_Because, her mind told her, neither of them alone was strong enough to overcome..._

_She froze, her trembling hand stretched out to grab onto Yang's. She felt them on her, boring into her like a white-hot drill, piercing down to her very soul: Eyes. The eyes of something that had lost its humanity long ago, an angry, spiteful thing fueled by toxic rage and malice, a vile, twisted demon. She didn't want to, but some morbid instinct forced to look in the thing's direction._

_She gasped, and her heart stopped mid-beat. The vicious specter grinned at her, surrounded by a swirling, slithering red and black miasma._

_ “Blake.” It breathed her name, putrid mist billowing from its gaping mouth and flared nostrils, its decaying face stretched into a skeletal grin. “My love...what are you doing...?” _

_She wanted to scream, to run, but her petrified body refused to do either. All she could do was stare into those hollow, lifeless blue eyes and into the demon's gaping maw. It reached out to her, swiping at the air between them with a gnarled claw, its body writhing and convulsing in unnatural movements. The earth around it wilted and died as it lurched toward her, the rattle of death rising from its chest and echoing from its open mouth._

_“Darling...” It breathed. “Come back to me...where you belong...”_

_“GET AWAY FROM HER!”_ _Yang bellowed, practically breathing fire as she rushed toward the horrific phantom, fists clenched._

_“Yang! No!” Blake made one last desperate grab for Yang's hand, but she missed by mere inches._

_The blonde brawler pulled her right fist back, and unleashed another fierce battle cry as her fist rocketed toward the demon's grinning, rotting face._

_But the creature moved faster than either of them could react: It snatched Yang's fist out of the air, grabbed onto her wrist, and plunged its free arm into her chest like a sword._

_Someone screamed – was it Blake, or was it Yang? It was impossible to tell, but the nightmarish wail echoed in Blake's ears as her vision filled with a deep crimson hue, blending in horrifically perfect unison with the fiend's maniacal laughter._

**_“YANG!”_ **

_“You belong to me, Blake – now and forever...” the demon whispered into her ear, its harsh, sadistic tone cutting through her thoughts and sobs like a knife. “Come back to me, my love...come home...to me!”_

_Blake screamed and protested as the fiend reached out and tenderly stroked her cheek with a bloody claw – Yang's blood, her mind told her. Her stomach turned, bile rising in her throat, her heart refused to restart as she turned away from the beast and found her eyes drawn to Yang, who despite everything smiled at her._

_“It's gonna be okay.” Her partner assured her, even as the light flickering light faded from her eyes. “We made a promise, remember?”_

_ She tried to scramble to Yang's side, to at least cradle and comfort her in her final moments of life, to assure her that she hadn't forgotten their promise. But the fiend held her in place, bloody talons entangled in her hair, so she had no choice but to watch her cherished partner fade away from a distance. _

_“Yang. Yang! YANG!” She cried over and again, tears rolling down her cheeks._

_But no matter how much or how loudly Blake screamed her name, Yang didn't respond and soon enough was swallowed whole by the darkness, leaving Blake alone._

_ “ _ **_YANG!!!”_ **

Her eyes flew open, and she shot bolt upright in bed, chest heaving, hair stuck to her scalp, drenched in cold sweat, and throat hoarse from screaming. Her eyes quickly adjusted to the darkness, but it took her much longer to register that she was in bed with Yang and not on the side of a cliff.

“Babe? What's wrong?” Yang's groggy but concerned voice reached her ears, though even with Blake's enhanced hearing her girlfriend sounded like she was a million miles away rather right next to her in bed.

Blake didn't reply, but only because she felt like if she opened her mouth she would vomit. Her chest ached, and the rusty, nauseating stench of blood and sulfur still violated her nostrils. No matter how many times her mind repeated that she was safe, that Yang was okay and that it was only a nightmare, she couldn't shake the vivid intensity of the scene that had just played before her eyes.

“Blake?” Yang called her again, and a moment later she felt Yang's reassuring touch tenderly stroke her cheek. She froze, half expecting Yang to pull back when she realized there was blood –  _ her  _ blood – on Blake's cheek, but that reaction never came and instead Yang's soft, warm hand cupped her face. “You okay?”

Blake swallowed the last bit of bile in her throat, slowly exhaled, then shakily turned to her girlfriend and said, “Y-yeah, just a bad dream. I'm okay.”

Even under the cover of darkness Blake could clearly see that Yang didn't believe she was actually okay, and she didn't blame her – she  _ wasn't _ , after all.

“Babe, you've been having these bad dreams almost every night for the past month.” Yang reminded her, wrapping one arm around Blake's trembling shoulder and gently pulling her close; Blake appreciatively rested her head on Yang's chest, soothed by the sound of her love's beating heart.

She had, but nightmares were nothing new to her: She'd had them almost every night for a full year starting after waking up in the hospital after being stabbed.

But in the six months that she and Yang had been dating the nightmares had stopped. In fact, they'd only started up again during the last month or so when they started spending the night at each other's apartments – or more accurately, since Blake had practically moved into Yang's. Blake didn't want to believe that one had anything to do with the other, though.

“Wanna talk about it?” Yang offered. “It might help if you get all those bad thoughts out of your head.”

Blake tried to decline Yang's offer, but as soon as she opened her mouth a flash of deep crimson filled her vision and she had to clamp it back shut as a fresh wave of acidic bile surged into the back of her throat. She buried her face in Yang's chest, did her best to focus on her girlfriend's natural warmth and her calming scent rather than the horrifically grinning ghoul crawling up into her conscious thoughts from the deepest recesses of her unconscious mind.

“Can I...just stay like this for a bit longer?” She asked once she felt opening her mouth was safe again, nuzzling Yang's chest. “Please?”

“As long as you need.” Yang's arms wrapped around her, holding her as close as they could physically be.

“Thank you. I love you, Yang.”

“Love you too.” Yang kissed the top of her head, and they lapsed into comfortable silence as the blonde drifted off back to sleep.

Blake, however, stayed awake for the rest of the night, comforted by Yang's beating heart but also wanting to ensure that it kept on beating until sunrise.

* * *

It happened again the next night, and the night after that, and every night for the rest of the week: Blake would wake up in a cold sweat, hoarsely screaming for Yang and desperately clawing at the darkness until she found the safety and comfort of her girlfriend's hand, her vision clouded by tears and vivid streaks of illusory crimson, the fiendish ghost's taunting laughter echoing in her ears.

“I'm so sorry!” She groaned Sunday morning after yet another horrific nightly vision of watching Yang die before her eyes. Resting her head on the cool surface of the kitchen table she said, “Maybe I should stop sleeping over – at least  _ one  _ of us should get a good night's rest!”

Yang rolled her eyes and said as she set a fresh cup of fragrant hot tea in front of her, “Yeah, right. I'd be too worried to sleep if you were all alone at your place.”

Blake smiled and lifted her head just enough to take a whiff of the tea. Ever since she'd started staying over more frequently Yang had stocked her shelves with a lovely variety of tea, and this morning it was Earl Grey.

“Thanks,” she said, taking a deep sip and then sighing. “For everything.”

“I haven't really done anything, though.” Yang pointed out. “Just kinda...been there when you wake up, that's all.”

“And that's been more than enough.” Blake reached over and kissed her cheek. “But really, there's nothing either of us can do. It's just comforting to know that when I wake up, you'll be there.”

“And I always will be.” Yang returned her kiss. “I promise.”

_ “I promise.”  _ Yang's voice echoed in Blake's heart, but not the voice of the Yang who was sitting beside her in their small, cramped dining room: A different Yang, but Blake couldn't explain  _ how  _ they were different, only that they were.  _ “We'll keep each other safe, no matter what. It's a promise.” _

For reasons she couldn't explain, tears welled up in Blake's eyes, blurring her vision, rolling down her cheeks, and dripping into the tea Yang had so lovingly prepared for her.

“Blake?” Yang –  _ this  _ Yang – called out to her, but Blake could barely hear her. “Babe, what's wrong?”

Blake didn't say anything. Her chest ached, similar to the way it used to when she was pining for Yang but trying to convince herself that she wasn't, and it was impossible for her to breathe. Her vision blurred, not just from tears, but by a faint gray fog that seemingly cut her off from the rest of the world. She was alone, all alone with this unbearable ache.

“Blake!”

She blinked repeatedly, and the fog was gone just as quickly as it had appeared. Before long Yang's concerned face swam into view, but something wasn't quite right: The person sitting across from her looked like Yang – long, fiery golden hair, lilac eyes filled with love and worry, and an angelic face – but Blake's aching heart told her that this wasn't  _ her  _ Yang! There were certain faint differences, healed over scars, worry lines, and a wisdom that only came with living a very long life.

“Blake? Talk to me! What's wrong?”

Blake rubbed her eyes, trying to blink away the vision of this Yang who wasn't really Yang, but the aged yet still incredibly beautiful battle hardened blonde sitting next to her refused to go away. She reached for Yang's hand, for the familiar sensation of their fingers intertwining, squeezing and Yang's warmth spreading to her and assuring her that everything was going to be alright.

But when Blake's fingers found Yang's, she immediately recoiled when instead of warm flesh she felt something cold, hard, and metallic. She looked down, and gasped at the sight of the black and gold painted prosthetic that had replaced Yang's right arm. She blinked, and the prosthetic vanished.

“...Blake?” Yang reached out and caressed her cheek, cupping her face and turning her so that they faced each other. And the person Blake saw sitting across from her was once again  _ her  _ Yang: The beautiful nineteen year old college sophomore, no scars or premature age lines. “Babe, what's wrong?”

Without saying a word, and without realizing what she was doing, Blake placed her hands on the sides of Yang's face, leaned in, rested her forehead onto her girlfriend's, and then after a few seconds of quietly inhaling the calming scent of Yang's shampoo, gently pressed her lips to Yang's. Comforting, warm, soft, and most importantly familiar, with just a faint taste of strawberries.

“Umm, not that I don't appreciate a good kiss so early in the morning, but what was that for? What's going on, babe?” Yang asked once Blake finally broke the kiss.

“Just checking something.” Blake sighed. “That you really are still here, just like you promised.”

“I haven't moved since I brought your tea,” Yang jokingly quipped, a tender smile dancing across her flushed face. “But if this is what I get for not doing anything at all, I won't complain.”

They laughed, and Blake's heart eased up just a tiny bit; it still ached and yearned for something that she already had, for the person whose lips were mere centimeters from hers but whose heart and soul felt as if they were a million miles away.

“Hey Yang?” She said after they shared another kiss.

“Hmm?”

She hesitated for a moment, unsure of why she felt the need to know the answer here and now, but then asked, “Do you believe in reincarnation?”

“A little early for theological discussions isn't it? We haven't even had breakfast yet!”

“Yang. Please.” She narrowed her eyes.

Yang offered a lopsided smile in response, then scrunched up her perfect features in deep contemplation for a moment. She then said, “I don't really know, and I've never given it much thought. But it's a nice thought isn't it, that we get a second or third or however many chances to get this whole 'life' thing right.”

She nodded then asked, “The night we met, when all this started, didn't it feel like...like we'd met before, like it was  _ meant  _ to be?”

“Well yeah, but that's because  _ we _ were meant to be, baybee~!” Yang tried to play it smooth, flirtatious and cheesy, but Blake saw something flicker to life behind those deep lilac pools – worry, or concern for Blake's state of mind?

“Do you believe in soulmates?” Blake asked, absentmindedly taking a sip of tea; it had grown cold, but she didn't mind.

“Lotta deep questions today huh?” Yang chuckled. She scratched her head and said, “I don't know if I do or not honestly, but I can't deny that there's something special between us, something really...nice? And familiar? Like everything that's happened with us really was supposed to happen. So, I guess at least when it comes to us, I do.”

Blake nodded, satisfied by Yang's answers but with so many more questions for herself, about what was going on in her own mind. Were the nightmares just getting to her, bleeding into her waking life? Was she just sleep deprived and hallucinating? She had no idea.

Despite these concerns still bouncing around in her skull, and while not fully recovered from whatever had just happened in this kitchen, Blake was able to calm down and enjoy her (cold) morning tea with Yang before they went about the rest of their day.

And that night, for the first time in a month, her dreams were peaceful.

* * *

_“Catch your breath. I'll hold him off.”_

_No!_

_Blake was on her knees in the dirt, chest heaving and catching fire with each breath she tried to take in, the rest of her body trembling uncontrollably. A sharp pain in her left side stood out so much more than the rest of the minor aches and pains spread throughout her body: She was bleeding, but she couldn't remember how she'd received the wound._

_She looked around when she felt the horrific, familiar sensation of that fiendish death glare focused on her – and found the smoky crimson ghoul several feet away from them, its mouth gaping wide and spewing vile red and black mist from the deepest pits of its being._

_“Blake...” It whispered in_ his _voice, as it always did in her nightmares. “Why do you hurt me, my love...? Come back to me...”_

_“GET AWAY FROM – !”_

_“Yang, STOP!” Blake cried, cutting her off and scrambling to her side. She grabbed Yang's prosthetic hand, squeezing it. “Please, don't go!”_

_Yang froze, eyes wide and cheeks flushed; she looked as if she had momentarily forgotten that Blake was there with her. She looked down at their joined hands, at their interlaced fingers, and then back to Blake's pleading expression._

_“Blake?”_

_“Yang, please.” Her voice came out choked and hoarse, and she felt hot tears rolling down her cheeks. “I can't lose you again.”_

_The pink in Yang's cheeks deepened to hot crimson, followed by the confident lopsided smile that made Blake's heart skip a bit._

_“Don't worry. I –_ we _can take him!” She pumped her free fist. She paused for a second then added, her grin becoming a bit more sheepish, “And once this is over, I...there's something I need to tell you, okay?”_

_Blake's throat tightened, the ache in her chest eclipsed even the deep wound in her side, and the tears flowed freely._

_“Yang...” Her partner's name was the only word that she could choke out, and it hurt to do so._

_Yang winked, gently eased her hand out of Blake's, then bawled up her fists, cocked her gauntlets, and turned to face the grinning fiend with a determined expression, a pair of raging infernos burning behind her lilac eyes._

_“Things will be different this time, I promise.” She said, but they both knew that neither of them really believed this – Yang's trembling fists were a dead giveaway._

_The blonde brawler charged forward, toward the crimson fiend whose arms were outstretched as if it wanted to embrace her. Its lifeless blue eyes sank into its skull, becoming two perfect black circles. Its hollow, rattling laughter echoed in Blake's ears, chilling her to the core._

_Yang threw a straight right punch, which connected square into the fiend's face. However the creature did not seem to register that it had been attacked, but instead continuing laughing and whispering Blake's name in a slow, vicious drawl, a shadow of the voice of the person it was attempting to mimic. Yang unleashed several more punches to the beast's face, chest, and sides, but for all the good it did she might as well have been punching empty air._

_The fiend waited for Yang's flurry of punches to end, and then it reacted at last: It thrust its gnarled right arm forward like a sword, aiming right for her heart and the killing blow. Blake's heart stopped, but fortunately Yang's didn't: She swerved left, and the fiend's claw slashed only through her afterimage. Yang threw another strong right punch, which connected with the fiend's jaw but seemingly did no damage._

_The vile crimson beast grabbed Yang by the throat and brought their faces dangerously close together, breathing its wretched red and black mist and obscuring Yang's face._

_“Blake belongs...to me...” It hissed. “I won't...let you have her...”_

_Yang screamed, reeled back, and headbutted the fiend with all her strength, causing the creature to lose focus just enough that it released its hold on her. Without missing a beat she unleashed another flurry of punches, pushing the fiend back further as her fiery fists landed punishing strike after strike._

_“She doesn't belong to_ anyone _, and that's what you've never understood.” She said, breathing heavily. “As many times as we've gone around and done this dance, you still don't get it. But this_ has _to end! We all deserve to rest – even you. So please. Leave. Us. Alone!”_

_Blake limped toward her partner's side, blood still flowing from the wound in her side and tears still rolling down her cheeks as she watched her cherished dragon clash with the demon who haunted her past. She wanted to help –_ needed _to help Yang put an end to their vicious cycle once and for all, so that all three of them could finally find some rest._

_“I will NEVER be at peace...” The fiend hissed, lashing out at Yang again; Yang barely dodged the attack. “We all...suffer...TOGETHER!”_

_Yang scowled, gritted her teeth, and smashed her flame covered right fist into the fiend's face once more. The crimson beast stumbled backward, and before it could regain its balance Yang unleashed another quartet of hard shots._

_Blake finally made it to her partner's side as the last blow connected, breathing heavily and with blurred vision, but that didn't matter. The only thing that mattered was that she and Yang were standing side by side, ready to put this nightmare of an existence to rest and finally move on._

_“You ready?” Yang asked; it was imperceptible, but her eyes lowered to the nasty gash in Blake's side and clouded over with deep worry. “It's okay if you need to sit this one out.”_

_Blake shook her head, gave her a reassuring smile and said, “I'll be fine. Let's end this – together!”_

_Yang grinned and opened her mouth to reply, but what came out was a frightened gasp as Blake swayed and collapsed onto her knees. Her legs had finally given out and could no longer support her weight, and the pain in her side was unbearable. She gasped for breath, but each intake felt as if she was inhaling thousands of tiny shards of glass, which shredded and burned her lungs._

_“Blake!” Yang cried, dropping down beside her and taking her into her arms. “Blake, no!”_

_Blake coughed, trying to hold on for just a bit longer. As much pain as she was in, she needed one last thing before she left Yang behind to restart the cycle and wait for her. She slowly turned to face her partner, whose lilac eyes were swimming with tears, and placed her clean, blood free hand on Yang's face._

_“Yang...tell me. Please?”_

_“I...Blake...” Yang shook her head, resting their foreheads together. “I can't...”_

_“Please.” Blake pressed, her voice sounding faint even to her own ears; she didn't have much time left. “I don't want to wait another lifetime to hear you say it. Please...tell me.”_

_Yang tightly shut her eyes, held Blake as close as they could be, then whispered gently into her feline ears, “I love you. Always have.”_

_“Always will.”_

_The last sensation Blake registered was the warm, strawberry flavored pressure of Yang's lips on hers – and then, everything around her faded, and in the cold darkness she heard the tearful, thunderous, heartfelt roar of a dragon usher her not to whatever lay beyond this mortal coil, but back into the Cycle of Life and Death, back to waiting for Yang to find her in another life._

_Just like always._

* * *

Blake's eyes flew open. She didn't scream, didn't try to sit up, but rather allowed the memories to return to her as she stared at their bedroom ceiling. Her heart beat wildly, ached as it always did after waking up from these kinds of dreams, which she finally understood weren't dreams at all. She held her breath as fragments of past lives – and of past deaths, both hers and Yang's – fell into place like pieces of a puzzle.

How many times had they done this, she wondered? How many different lives had they lived, loved, and lost each other? She lost count even as the memories played before her mind's eye like a video.

“Yang.” She whispered her girlfriend's name, feeling it prick her heart.

“Hmm?” Yang's voiced reached her ears, confused and hoarse from sleep. She stirred to life beside Blake and propped herself up on her elbow, mumbling, “'nother bad dream?”

Blake rolled onto her side, amber finding lilac even in the darkness, as they had for what felt like a thousand lifetimes, and said, “They weren't dreams.”

Neither said a word for what felt like hours, and the tension between them was palpable. For a second Blake thought Yang had fallen back to sleep, but then she uttered a low, resigned sigh.

“I was wondering when you'd finally realize.” She said, chuckling and moving into a sitting position. “Usually it happens after our first kiss.”

“Wait. What?” Blake sat up as well, confused and slightly angry for reasons she couldn't quite explain. “Yang, do you – ?”

“Yup.” Yang turned to her, smiling weakly. “Sorry for lying, but would you honestly have believed me if I'd told you the truth before now?”

“And what is the truth, exactly?” Blake demanded; the memories had stopped coming when she'd said Yang's name, and while she had enough pieces in place to see the picture it still wasn't complete.

“That's...a long story.” Yang sighed.

“I've got time.”

Yang nodded and said, “Okay then. Well...”

What Yang told her next was unbelievable, like something out of a piece of fanfiction – and yet, Blake understood that every word was the honest to gods truth.


	4. Sleepover

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In another lifetime, Yang and Blake *almost* didn't get together.
> 
> But some things are simply inevitable, and a night of celebration leads to feelings being revealed.

The roar of the crowd was deafening: Thousands of people screaming a single name over and again, clapping and stomping their feet in perfect unison and creating a thunderstorm of noise, all for one person.

“Yang! Yang! Yang!”

“The Golden Dragon”, Yang Xiao Long, fists raised in triumph and a massive grin stretched across her flushed, sweaty, slightly bruised and bloodstained but still strikingly beautiful face, soaked all of it in as she stood in the center of the ring. She scanned the sea of humanity, the mass of her adoring fans, for a single face – or rather, a pair of eyes and ears that she could spot in any crowd.

“Ladies and gentlemen, your winner and NEW Remnant Wrestling Federation World Heavyweight Champion: 'The Golden Dragon' Yang. Xiao.  _ Loooooooooong!” _

The crowd, which Yang didn't think could any louder, exploded at the official announcement, practically shattering the roof of Amity Arena with nearly universal approval and adulation. Yang couldn't even hear her theme song playing over the speakers due to how vocal the crowd was – but, she cheekily observed, that might also have something to do with the slight ringing in her ears.

She cast a side glance over to her opponent, Mercury Black, slumped and catching his breath in the corner, glaring daggers at her from behind clouded gray eyes. Merc had been her rival for so long, doing whatever he could to slow down Yang's momentum, stack the odds, and get inside Yang's head in the build up to their epic clash tonight.

But tonight, with everything on the line – not just Mercury's RWF World Championship, which felt as if it weighed a ton as Yang hoisted it over her head to show off for the crowd, but also her undefeated streak of nearly one full year – she'd come on top. Merc put up one hell of a fight, and Yang would definitely being feeling her injuries once the adrenaline wore off.

However, she put all of that out of her mind now that the match was over. The only thing she wanted to focus on at this moment was finding  _ her  _ in the crowd: Her biggest fan.

And almost right away, she found her: The long, flowing black hair, gentle and perceptive amber eyes that could read Yang like a book, and the excitedly twitching cat ears that poked out of the top of her head. She wasn't yelling her head off and beating her hands together for Yang like the rest of the crowd, but the tender loving smile and the soft tears rolling down her lightly flushed cheeks were so much louder to her than anyone or anything else in the arena.

“Bla – !” She started to call out to her, but Merc slammed his shoulder into her as he passed to exit the ring and cut her off.

They glared at each other, neither willing to back down and each ready for a fight despite  _ just  _ ending one that had lasted well over half an hour and both clearly out of energy. The crowd had finally cooled down in the last few seconds, but faint pockets of rumbling had started up again the moment that Yang and Mercury had locked eyes – they knew this wasn't over, and they very clearly wanted more.

“What? You want a rematch already?” Yang smirked, her voice hoarse.

Mercury didn't say anything at first, but instead continued silently glaring at Yang with murderous intent, chest heaving and fists clenched at his sides. But then, to Yang's surprise, he cracked a faint grin, raised his right arm and extended his fist to her.

“Congratulations, Blondie.” He said, still somewhat hoarse and out of breath himself. “Enjoy your victory, cuz it won't happen again!”

Yang didn't know how to react or what to say. They had been at each other's throats for months: Sneak attacks, cutting scathing and incendiary promos on each other, brawling in damn near every major arena in each of the four kingdoms, shedding buckets of blood and sweat along the way. And now here they were, rivals and equals who had given their all and earned each other's respect on the grandest stage: VytalMania at the famous Amity Arena.

She took a deep breath, cast a side glance at the dark haired beauty sitting in the front row, accompanied by the good looking blonde haired, monkey tailed young man who could have been either her best friend or boyfriend (Yang had no idea which was more likely); she smiled and shrugged, and Yang understood that she was on her own in making this decision.

So she shrugged, laughed, and fist bumped Merc – the crowd went absolutely wild as soon as their knuckles made contact – then with the biggest grin, “We'll see about that!”

Mercury scoffed and exited the ring, allowing Yang to bask in the glory of her championship victory without sharing the spotlight. But she was done, and all she wanted was to go see her biggest fan.

“ _ Yang!” _

Someone hopped into the ring and threw their arms around her from behind her, squeezing what little air was left in her lungs and applying pressure on what she was pretty sure were her bruised ribs. She did her best to turn around, and grinned at the sight of her teary eyed  _ actual _ biggest fan staring up admiringly at her with those wide silver orbs that remind Yang so much of their mom.

“Yang! You did it! You totally kicked Merc's butt!” Ruby, her younger sister and occasional tag team partner, cried, hugging her even tighter and burying her tear stained face in Yang's chest. “I'm so proud of you, sis!”

“Ruby! Can't...breathe...!” Yang choked out, although not even the pain in her...well,  _ everything  _ could stop her from throwing her arms around her sister and embracing her in front of the cheering crowd.

“Don't care!” Ruby cried, squeezing her hard enough that Yang swore she heard one of her ribs crack. “You did it! YOU'RE THE CHAMP, YANG!”

“You say that like you weren't sure I was gonna win.” Yang playfully accused.

“I...uhh...” Ruby eased up the pressure on Yang's ribs and tried to back off, but Yang refused to let her go and kept the hug in place. “I love you!”

They laughed, gave the crowd one last photo op by raising the championship belt up high together, with Ruby gesturing to Yang and crying, “My sister's the champ!”, and then left the ring together; Yang desperately needed a shower, a massage, and a whole pizza – and not necessarily in that order or even individually!

“Yang!” A familiar voice called out to her.

She turned toward the person who called her, told Ruby to go ahead without her, then jogged over to the amber eyed woman.

“Congratulations, Champ.” Blake Belladonna, Yang's best friend and former tag team partner, said as they embraced; the crowd popped hard for this, because of course the cameras were still on Yang and projecting everything. “You actually did it, and I'm so proud of you!”

“Haha, 'actually'? What's with my biggest supports having all this doubt in my skills?” Yang chuckled.

Her face caught fire as Blake's lips quickly brushed against her cheek. Blake muttered, “I never doubted you for a second.”

They let the embrace linger probably for longer than they should have, but Yang didn't mind – despite the fact that she was covered in sweat and probably smelled horrible to Blake's hypersensitive faunus nose. Eventually they separated though and Yang finally headed up the ramp and back to the locker room.

However, she couldn't help herself: She turned around, raised her championship high above her head and let out one last celebratory war cry for the fans; she could practically  _ hear  _ Blake rolling her eyes and muttering “Show off” under her breath over even the riotous roar of the arena.

* * *

“To the new champion of the world!” Blake raised her favorite tea cup, grinning.

“Hell yeah!” Yang cheered, delicately clinking her Sunflower pop bottle against the cup and spilling a bit. “Whoops!”

They were sitting together in Yang's hotel room, a relatively small and cozy place that didn't have much apart from a single bed, bathroom, and holoscreen TV. It wasn't exactly a five-star luxury suite befitting the current world champion of the biggest pro wrestling federation in all of Remnant, but right now Yang couldn't imagine any other place she would rather be.

“So, how does accomplishing your childhood dream feel?” Blake asked after taking a sip and cutely scrunching her nose; this place wasn't exactly the Schnee Royal Hotel and therefore didn't have the best tea selection, and the only store open in the area was a family dollar store.

Yang downed half her soda in a single, throat burning but oh so satisfying gulp, sighed, then said with a small smile, “I'll let ya know when it finally hits me. It still doesn't feel real, ya know?”

The best friends and former partners turned in unison to Yang's lazily discarded open suitcase, which contained her ring gear that was in desperate need of a good wash and the beautiful big gold championship belt that Yang had dreamed of holding ever since she was five years old – years before women had even been allowed to compete for the title.

Blake nodded and said, “Yeah, it's been...an interesting journey, to say the least.” She smiled and unconsciously rubbed the back of her neck, wincing slightly and covering it up by taking another sip.

A slight twinge of guilt pricked Yang's chest.

“Blake...” she muttered, but her old partner shook her head.

“It's fine.” Blake assured her, smiling. “This is  _ your  _ night, Yang! Let's celebrate!”

Yang nodded, but the guilt remained: The only reason she'd become a singles competitor, the only reason she'd been able to spend the last year chasing after the world title, was because she'd lost her tag team partner. During their last match tagging together Blake suffered a broken neck and severe concussion, had surgery, and announced to the world that unfortunately she would have to retire from in-ring competition. Yang had been devastated, and the feeling of guilt at being unable to protect her partner still hadn't left her; she doubted that it ever would.

“Hey.” Blake's stern but gentle voice cut through her thoughts before she could sin too deeply into a guilt ridden spiral. Yang looked up, and saw Blake smiling at her in a way that she never had before in all their years of being friends and fighting side by side. “You earned this. You deserve it. And I'm so very,  _ very  _ proud of you, Yang Xiao Long.”

She set her teacup down on the nightstand, then carefully took Yang's hands into hers and slowly interlaced their fingers, caressing them with that tender look in her eyes.

“Blake?”

“Do you remember the conversation we had the first day we met?”

“Uhhh...” Yang rolled her eyes up to the ceiling, silently hoping that the answer would be written there. “Yes?”

Blake snorted. “Gods you're a terrible liar. Our first day at Beacon, you walked up to me without a shred of fear or hesitation, wearing a faded Blu Blazier T-shirt and dragging poor Ruby behind you, and asked me if I liked pro wrestling.”

“Oh yeah!” Yang laughed. “You rolled your eyes and said 'yeah, obviously' with the most 'if this girl doesn't get away from me' look on your face!”

“And you, being unable to detect sarcasm – ”

“Bold of you to assume that was the reason~!” Yang stuck out her tongue.

“Sat down next to me and talked my ear off all through lunch about all your favorite wrestlers and matches. And you did it again the next day, and the next day, and the next day.”

“And you didn't say a word, but just kept your eyes glued to the book you were reading and ignoring me.”

“Yet you couldn't take the hint.”

“Again, very bold of you to assume that Miss Belladonna. I  _ did _ take the hint, but also chose to ignore it because I thought you – ”

“Were really cute?” Blake tried to finish her thought.

“Could use a friend.” Yang said. Blake raised an eyebrow, and she added with a light burning sensation in her cheeks, “And that you were really cute. But after that first I remember telling Ruby that I thought you were a lost cause.”

“I think I was back then.” Blake's cat ears drooped slightly. But then she smiled and said, “But, thanks for not giving up on me.”

They lapsed into a comfortable silence for what felt like hours to Yang, who was only vaguely aware of the fact that they had moved from sitting in bed to laying next to each other as they reminisced. This wasn't unusual, as there had been a time during their travels together that they could only afford a room with a single bed. No big deal.

“So, what's with the trip down memory lane?” Yang inquired after neither of them had said anything for a while, but in that time Blake decided to use Yang's chest as a pillow.

Blake shrugged and said, “Call it nostalgia I guess. Seeing you tonight, bright and sunny as you were standing on top of the world, reminded why I lo – !” She stopped short, flattening her ears against the top of her scalp and burying her face in Yang's chest. “I mean, no reason.”

“Pfft, and you have the audacity to say  _ I'm  _ a terrible liar!” Yang teased, earning a playful jab to her side for her cheekiness.

“Shut up.” Blake muttered.

“Make me~!”

Blake peeked up from the safety of her pillow/Yang's chest, then fully lifted her head and scooted up until they were at eye level. Yang, who had known Blake for the better part of ten years, had never seen Blake look at her the way she was right now – but in that entire time, had always wished that she would.

“Yang, do you believe in soulmates?” Blake asked, her voice barely above a whisper but clear as day in Yang's ears.

“I – ” Yang started to say that she wasn't sure, but something stopped her: A faint, throbbing pain in her chest that had nothing to do with the rest of her sore body. “I feel like you've asked me that before.”

“That's because you have.” Blake said. “In another life.”

“In another...what?”

Blake sighed, rested her forehead against Yang's, then said, “The night we won the Women's Tag Team belts we went out to celebrate, remember?”

“Yeah. You, me, Nora, Pyrrha, and Coco went out for drinks and danced the night away at Club Neon. I think I got into a fight too, it's kinda blurry honestly.”

“You  _ did _ get into a fight.” Blake sighed. “With yourself. You had a few too many strawberry sunrises and got into an argument with the bathroom mirror; Nora had to put in a full nelson because you tried to punch it.”

Yang blushed and snorted at the same time. After calming down she said, “Come to think of it, I haven't had anything alcoholic since that night.”

“Because you promised me you'd never drink again...while still very,  _ very  _ drunk and in-between vomiting.” Blake explained. “I honestly didn't think you'd remember, you never mentioned it again. But the next night after the show, and every night after that, you kept your promise. You remembered. And that always made me wonder: Why didn't you remember what  _ else  _ you said to me?”

“What... _ else _ ...I said?”

Blake nodded and said, “That night, after I dragged you back home and got you into bed, you asked me if I believed in soulmates. I told you that I did, or rather that I  _ wanted  _ to, and then you said...you said that  _ we _ were soulmates. You said that you'd had dreams about me, even before we met. That when we first met, it was like something clicked in your head, that I was special. You said...a lot of things, that I dismissed as drunken ramblings. Then, right before you passed out, you told me that you loved me – always and forever.”

Yang's heart skipped several beats in a row, then stopped altogether when she saw the tears well up in those beautiful amber eyes that she'd been in love with for as long as she could remember.

“Blake...”

“Those words – not just the 'I love you', but more so 'always and forever' – they did something to me.” Blake continued, not bothering to hide her tears. “It was like a spark at first, but over time it grew into a wildfire. I loved you too, I always had, but for some reason it was like my heart wouldn't let me embrace it. I didn't want to ruin our friendship, or mess up our team dynamic, or any of a thousand other excuses. But it was there: Real, true, honest to gods love, like I'd never loved anyone else.”

This had been the thing Yang had always wanted to hear. On all those weekend drives together up to the only wrestling school in Vale that would train a seventeen year old kid. After every practice session when she was too sore and beat up to think about anything else. During all the rides to and from different indie shows, after wrestling for a measly fifty lien in front of ten people, and during those nights when they slept in fleabag motels.

And tonight. Especially tonight, when one of her dreams had finally come true and she'd become the World Champion, she'd taken a moment to say a pray to whichever of the gods would listen that her other dream would come true as well: The dream that was far more precious to her than winning some silly gold belt.

And here they were, two lifelong best friends sharing a bed in a cheap hotel just like the good old days, looking at each in a way that neither had seen the other look.

“Why didn't you bring it up?” Yang asked.

“Why didn't  _ you? _ ” Blake retorted, scowling but quickly breaking and slipping into a warm, affectionate smile. “And...I don't know. Maybe because I was afraid that it really was just drunken, overly sentimental rambling.”

“It wasn't.” Yang rested her forehead against Blake's, lightly booping her nose and chuckling. “I love you, Blake. Always have.”

“Always will.” Blake finished, as if they had said this to each other a thousand times before tonight.

They laughed, and before either of them realized it their lips were pressed together. They were kissing. Yang was kissing Blake, her best friend, tag team partner, and the only person she'd ever been in love with – it was a wonderful, burning, familiar sensation that had the faint bitter taste of unsweetened green tea, and Yang never wanted it to end.

But it did, and when they pulled apart to catch their breath they stared at each other in the dark, their expressions mirrored uncertainty of what came next.

“Um, don't fall asleep on me okay? I need to go find Sun.” Blake said, running her hands through her hair as she hopped out of bed.

“Sun?” Yang tried to hide the feeling of being insulted in her tone. But then it dawned on her. “Oh. Right. The guy you come to the shows with. Your boyfriend, right? Should...we not have done this?”

“Pfft, me and  _ Sun? _ ” Blake scoffed. “No. Just, no. I just...kinda told him to wait for me in the lobby, but I don't think I'll need him to drive me home tonight.”

She gave Yang a telling look and a flirtatious smile, then winked and left the room to shoo away her friend.

Yang remained in bed for a few seconds, unable to fully comprehend that everything she could ever want was happening all in the span of a single night. She stared at the heavyweight championship belt sitting atop her dirty ring gear, then at the now empty half the bed where Blake had just been kissing her and where the scent of her shampoo and perfume still lingered, mixed with Yang's sweat. None of it felt real, no matter how many times she repeated to herself that it was.

She got out of bed and walked over to the tiny, painted shut and somewhat dirty window, which had a decent view of the city skyline. Taking a deep breath and recalling the bittersweet taste of Blake's lips on hers, she looked up at the deep yellow and seemingly much too big for the sky moon; she chuckled at how much this sight reminded her of Blake's eyes, even though they were nowhere the same shade of yellow.

She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and returned to the bed to wait for Blake, for whatever was going to happen next between them. And while she waited she thought about what Blake told her that  _ she  _ had told Blake. Of course, it had all been true; Yang was embarrassingly honest when she was drunk and had no filter whatsoever. So she'd poured her heart out to Blake once before, but why couldn't she remember doing it?

She looked deep inside herself for the answer, to the Yang of five years prior who had confessed her feelings so earnestly. But what she found something else: An ache in her chest that hurt more anything she'd ever experienced in ten years of being a pro wrestler. It felt like her heart was splitting right down the middle.

She tried to block out the pain, to power through it because she knew the answer must be on the other side of this hurt. But as she sank further into it she did find  _ something _ waiting for her: Memories. Memories that she couldn't explain having because she couldn't have possibly lived them, but which she knew belonged to her.

They were memories of sitting with Blake on a beach at sunset, holding each other close and watching the waves roll in. Memories of waiting for Blake at the end of a long aisle in a pristine church. Of standing side by side with Blake on a battlefield surrounded by snarling, red-eyed shadows. And of kissing Blake, of quietly declaring her love for her as the world went up in flames around them. These weren't dreams or fantasies – they had lived through each and every one of these scenarios, and more than once it seemed.

And finally, the last memory to show itself to Yang – or rather, the first: Two young women, who looked similar to teenage versions of Yang and Blake but with slight physical differences, standing at the edge of a cliff, a waterfall raging behind them and a pungent, hissing, writhing, living wall of red and black mist crawling toward them, eroding the very earth underneath.

Yang watched from afar – like she was watching an old TV show – as the Yang and Blake within this memory shared a tender look, held hands for a moment, and said something to each other that Yang couldn't quite hear before turning toward the angry mist with determined expressions and running straight at it.

That was where the memory ended, with the girls being swallowed by the mist and everything fading to black.

Yang opened her eyes. It took a moment for her to register that she was sitting in a hotel room and not surrounded by deadly miasma, and even longer for her to realize that there were tears rolling down her cheeks and splashing onto the dark brown carpet like raindrops. The ache in her chest remained, a lump formed in her throat, and for some reason her right arm was trembling uncontrollably.

“Yang?”

She looked up and over to the hotel room door, where Blake stood leaning against the door frame and somehow looking incredibly beautiful while deep concern was etched into every line on her face.

“Blake! I...” Yang hopped off the bed and rushed to her, throwing her arms around the amber eyed beauty and holding her close. “I remember.”

“Remember what?” Blake asked as she returned the embrace.

Yang paused, tried to clear away the lump in her throat, then whispered, “All of it. We...we really  _ are  _ soulmates, aren't we? I don't know how, but we've...done this before – a lot.”

Blake didn't say anything, and Yang didn't blame her; she knew she wasn't making any sense even to herself, and she couldn't have expected Blake to understand. But then Blake pulled back slightly, sighed, and rested her forehead against Yang's as she lightly cupped her cheek.

“I remember too; it started coming back to me after we kissed just now.” She said, tears in her eyes as well. “Yang, what  _ are  _ we?”

Yang paused, then said, “I don't know, but I don't care.”

Blake balked, searching the blonde's lilac eyes for some sort of explanation – and she found it almost right away. It really  _ didn't  _ matter what, why, or how all this was happening, only that each time it did they somehow miraculously found each other and got to be together for the rest of another lifetime.

“You're right.” She let out a contented sigh. “None of it matters. All that matters is this. Us. Right here, right now.”

“Yup!” Yang agreed, grinning and kissing her again. But as soon as their lips made contact she gasped and pulled back, eyes wide and a rush of guilt crashing into her heart and mind like a deadly tidal wave – bringing with it one more memory, one that was different from the others.

_ Two young women, one with golden hair and lilac eyes and the other with deep black hair and amber eyes, one in a suit and the other a dress. They were standing in front of what looked to be the ruins of an old shrine, in the shadow of a pair of crumbling statues: One a dragon, the other a tiger. In the night sky, a deep crimson moon cast the world in blood hued light. _

_“No matter how many lifetimes it takes, we will find each other again.”_

_“Until we find and know true peace and love.”_

_“I promise to love you, always.”_

_“I vow to love you, forever.”_

_They kissed, sealing their promise before the gods._

Yang blinked, and the world returned to normal. Standing in front of her was Blake, her best friend, tag team partner, and the person she had loved more than anyone else for a thousand lifetimes or more. Blake had tears in her eyes, and Yang knew right away that she had seen the same thing.

“That was it, wasn't it?” Blake asked. “The original us.”

“The promise that started all of...whatever this is, or has been.” Yang confirmed, nodding. “The gods  _ actually _ listened to us. But...”

“But?”

Yang hesitated then asked, knowing that neither of them had the answer, “What they – what  _ we  _ said: 'Until we find and know true peace and love.' All this time, in all our memories, we never got our happy ending. It always ended...badly. Why? What's stopping us from keeping that promise and ending this cycle?”

Blake didn't say anything, not that Yang had expected her to know. But they both knew that  _ something  _ was stopping them from finding that elusive true love and happiness their original selves begged the gods to give them a shot at having in another life...and another...and another.

But then Blake sighed, smiled, and planted a soft kiss on her lips. She said, “I don't know but, we have the rest of our lives – of  _ this  _ life – to figure that out together, don't we?”

Yang nodded. She was right, and all of that could wait – because for now, for just tonight at least, they had a  _ lot  _ of lost time to make up for.


	5. Fade Into You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yang and Blake know the truth. They know who they are, who they've been.
> 
> So, what comes next?
> 
> A conversation in bed between two lovers, between two souls who don't always need words to express themselves.

At some point, the sun had come up and bathed their room in soft, pale light. Blake couldn't remember the last time she and Yang had stayed up all night just talking, but this wasn't the kind of conversation they used to have during those long nights. Still, it felt as if  _ this  _ particular conversation had been a long time coming – even though it was one that they'd had plenty of times before.

“That's it.” Yang said, sighing and running both hands through her frazzled blonde hair. “That's the truth about who and what we are.”

“Okay but, why did you frame it as a memory within a memory instead of just skipping right to the crucial information?” Blake demanded, scowling but not in the least bit upset with her girlfriend.

“I dunno, cuz I like that memory!” Yang shrugged with a smirk. “Me as a pro wrestling heavyweight champion? That's a dream come true!”

Blake rolled her eyes and said, “You're such a dork.”

“Maybe so, but I'm  _ your _ dork – just like I always have been!”

These last words lingered in the air between them, heavy and unavoidable. Yang didn't regret saying them, Blake could see that much in those sleepy lilac eyes, but that also couldn't keep out the bittersweet tinge they carried with them.

“How many times have we been through this?” Blake wondered, sighing and falling back into her pillow. Turning to face the closed window she asked, “How many lives have we lived, repeating this exact conversation and circumstances?”

Yang rolled onto her side, propping herself up on one elbow and removing a strand of hair from Blake's face with the gentlest touch.

“I dunno, I've never tried counting them all; plus, after a while they all just kinda blend together.” She admitted, with which Blake had to agree; even now they were all jumbled inside her head like pieces of different puzzles. “But it's still amazing, isn't it? Finding each other and falling in love all over again in different lives. All thanks to some ancient promise our original selves made.”

Blake nodded and pressed her forehead against Yang's; she noticed a faint whiff of morning breath, but her nose could handle it for a little while.

“Soulmates really do exist.” She sighed. “We're living proof of that. Haha, that sounds like a line in a really cheesy love poem...or bad fanfiction.”

“Well, you  _ are  _ the expert on both those things~!” Yang teased, and Blake lightly bit her bottom lip in response.

“It's strange though, isn't it?” She asked, kissing the spot that she just bit and watching the shudder of delight ripple across Yang's perfect but sleepy-eyed face.

“What? Your taste in fanfiction? I've been saying that for months!”

“Yang.” Blake scowled, and her girlfriend replied by sticking out her tongue. “This is serious. Where do we go from here?”

“What do you mean?”

Blake sighed. “Why does this keep happening?”

Yang opened her mouth, possibly to ask what Blake meant, but then it dawned on her and she said, “That's the big question isn't it? Seems like we never get an answer.”

“Or if we have, neither of us can remember.” Blake pointed out. “All we really know is that our original selves wanted...” She searched for the correct phrasing.

“To 'find and know true peace and love.'” Yang said. “But, that sounds easy enough to obtain if we keep finding each other in our new lives doesn't it?”

“That's the thing, though.” Blake muttered, biting her lower lip and furrowing her brow. “We always seem to find the  _ love  _ part, but something's always prevented us from obtaining the  _ peace  _ part of our pact. Haven't you noticed?”

From the look in Yang's eyes, Blake understood that she most certainly  _ had  _ noticed: No matter when their story took place – even in a world in which they were pro wrestlers – their past selves always seemed to meet a tragic end. The horrible dreams that Blake had been having for the better part of the last month all involved the end of those particular love stories, most of them on the battlefield.

But there were no wars going on at this point in time – at least, none that either of them were fighting while attending college. The world wasn't peaceful or perfect, but their time together had been.

“Hey Yang?” Blake asked after neither of them had said anything for several long minutes, lost in their own bittersweet, bloodstained memories in search of answers.

“Hmm?”

Blake took a deep breath, held it for a ten count, then slowly exhaled and asked, “Do you remember when we – when  _ past  _ us fought together?”

“Which time?” Yang wasn't being cheeky – they  _ had  _ fought plenty of battles in many of their past lives.

Blake didn't know why, but she couldn't face Yang while saying what she needed to say next. She rolled onto her other side, inched her way back until she was comfortably nestled against her and could feel her natural warmth wash over her; under normal circumstances she would fall asleep like this in seconds, but this morning was not such a time.

“Our most recent time I think, judging by how much clearer the memory is compared to others.” She explained, closing her eyes. “We're on the edge of a cliff by a waterfall, and we're fighting...someone.” Her throat tightened, and a hard lump formed right in the center.

“Oh. Yeah, that was the first one that came back to me too.” Yang said; Blake's exceptional hearing picked up the distinct sound of her heart rate increasing. “I had a badass robot arm back then. Heh, for the first few months after that memory returned my right arm itched and hurt like crazy!”

Blake nodded and forced out a soft chuckle then continued, “In your memories, do you...do you remember  _ who  _ we were fighting on that cliff?”

Yang's body stiffened and her heart thumped even louder, to the point where Blake didn't even need a verbal answer for confirmation.

“I do.” Yang said anyway.

“In my dreams,” Blake said slowly, choosing each word, “all I see is...a monster. Sometimes it's a red, screaming mist; other times, it's something I can't even describe. But no matter what form it takes it feels like...like a thousand lifetimes' manifestation of hate and scorn. Like the embodiment of  _ spite. _ ”

She paused and held her breath. Even while she was awake, safely in the arms of the person she loved, she felt the nightmare's cold, gnarled grip on her throat, smelled its putrid, decaying breath invade her nostrils, and could see deep into the pits of its abyss black eye sockets.

“Yang, I think that the thing I keep seeing in my memories, the thing that refuses to let us be happy...is  _ him. _ ” She hadn't said his name out loud in over a year, and this was the closest she had come. But she knew that Yang would understand regardless. “I can't know for sure – something inside of me won't  _ let _ me see his face. But tell me the truth: Is it him?”

Yang didn't say anything, but she didn't need to: She draped one arm across Blake's waist, took her head and gave her a firm, loving squeeze, then nuzzled and kissed the back of her head.

“It is. It always is.” Yang said, sadness and fury reverberating in every syllable. “When my memories came back – I don't even know what triggered it this time, but I hoped against hope that you wouldn't run into him this time. But the night of our first date, when you showed me your scar, I knew right away: I couldn't protect you from getting hurt this time either. I'm so sorry, Blake.”

Blake eased herself onto her other side so that they were facing each other. She carefully wiped away the tears rolling down Yang's cheek, then kissed her; somehow, after a thousand lifetimes, she never seemed to get over how soft and sweet Yang's lips felt against hers.

“Thank you.” She murmured without breaking the kiss.

Yang sniffed. “For what?”

“For still loving me after all this time. For loving every Blake who seems to make the same mistake over and over, not realizing until it's too late, and for always finding me  _ exactly  _ at the point in my life when I need you most.”

“I always have.” Yang pressed their lips closer together, whispering the words through barely parted lips. “And I always will. Until this cycle stops and we find out what's on the other side of this mortal coil, together.”

Blake snorted; she couldn't help herself.

“That sounds  _ really  _ morbid and depressing out of context!” She playfully chastised her girlfriend, lightly booping their noses together.

“Heh, not like it would make more sense to anyone but us  _ in  _ context!” Yang pointed out.

“Who knows, maybe it would to some people?” Blake pondered. “I mean, we can't be the  _ only  _ couple in history to pray to the gods for what was effectively a second chance...right?”

“I guess not.” Yang furrowed her brow. She then laughed and added, “Or maybe we're the only ones they actually listened to!”

Blake started to laugh, but stopped as something struck her.

“But why  _ did  _ they listen? What made us so special? Can you remember?”

Yang shook her head. “Nope. I guess even when your soul is basically immortal it can't remember  _ everything. _ The furthest my recollection's ever gone back is making the initial vow, but nothing before that.”

Blake sighed. “We'll never have all the answers, will we?”

“Nope, but I don't think that's necessarily a bad thing.”

“What do you mean?” Blake raised a curious eyebrow.

Yang shrugged and said, “All the original us wanted was to be able to live, love, and have the happily ever after they weren't allowed to have at that time. And sure, one particularly angry and vengeful ghost seems determined to make sure that doesn't ever happen, but what can he do to us now, in this life?”

Blake contemplated this. On the surface she knew that Yang was right: After the incident he was arrested, tried, and incarcerated for attempted murder. He wasn't going to get out of prison any time soon, and if/when he ever did she was far beyond his reach – there was currently an entire ocean between them. She was safe, safer than she'd ever been, right here in the arms of her love.

“How many times have we had this same discussion, though?” She asked with a faint smile, letting out a small sigh. “It's like we're doomed to repeat ourselves until the heat death of the universe, until there are literally no more people left to tell our story. Is that really what we – the first  _ we –  _ wanted for us?”

“Dunno.” Yang shrugged, kissing the back of her head. “Also, don't care. Cuz I get to love you for another lifetime. I don't see the downside.”

Blake felt the warmth rise in her cheeks and her heart rate quicken just a tiny bit.

“Dork.” She muttered. And before Yang could retort she giggled and kissed her. “But, you're  _ my  _ dork!”

“Damn right!” Yang grinned, kissing her back.

They stayed in bed for the rest of the day – partly to cuddle, kiss, relax, and do other things, but mostly because they'd stayed up all night talking and were both exhausted. Between falling asleep, waking up just to give the other a tiny bit of affection before drifting back to sleep, rinse and repeat, they didn't have much time for deep conversation or questioning the nature of their unique shared existence.

Neither of them had any answers, even with a thousand lifetimes of memories and experiences shared between them. They had no idea what they were supposed to do going forward, except continue to live and love each other as they always had. And maybe Yang was right, Blake thought as she gently caressed the sleeping blonde's angelic face, removing a strand of golden hair from over her eye: Maybe that was the point of their existence, and that was all that mattered.


	6. To the Moon and Back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There is an old fairy tale about two gods who fell in love.
> 
> This is that tale.
> 
> But, is this really just a made up old story? Or it something more?

In the beginning, there was nothing – nothing except for the vast emptiness of the universe, bathed in unending darkness.

But from that nothingness, the Gods were born: First came Light and Shadow, who illuminated the universe and brought the stars into existence like candles in the night; then came Life, who was very quickly followed by Death, and together they worked in harmony to create the planets; Time and Space followed next, and thus marked the beginning and the end of the true First Day and the flow of time; and finally, from all six came the final God, Love, who breathed thought and feeling into the creations of the God of Life – humanity.

For eons the Gods lived in harmony, working together to keep all things in the universe in balance, watching from afar as their creation blossomed and flourished. And while the Gods lived and worked in perfect tandem with each other, they did not engage with each other beyond the necessity of their work. In order to maintain balance, it was decreed that the Gods would have no contact.

However, in time, two of the Gods began to take notice of each other: The Goddess of Light, who had taken the form of the Sun, and the Goddess of Shadow, who had become the Moon. Never able to occupy the same space at the same time, they could only glance at one another in passing as one took Her place in the sky, only very rarely coming together. But those rare occasions proved to be enough, and in time Light and Shadow fell in love.

While the two tried to keep their love a secret from the rest of the Pantheon, only coming together on rare occasions to create eclipses in the heavens, eventually the other Gods discovered this forbidden love and ordered that the two must separate. Even the God of Love, who had created these emotions, believed that the Pantheon must be above them if they were to maintain universal harmony.

Light and Shadow refused to accept this decree, choosing their love over divinity, and so were stripped of their godhood and banished to live among humans. They were given new forms made of flesh, still subject to Divine Law and cursed to die, which would see that one way or another the Pantheon would have their way and separate the lovers. If they wished for this curse to be removed and have their divinity reinstated, then before their death they would need only to renounce their love.

However, the lovers refused to allow the Gods to control or threaten them. Instead they chose to live out their days as humans, happily in love. They did not see their time on earth as a punishment, for here they were able to physically touch and be with each other rather than pining for each other from afar, separated by the vast distance of dark space and twinkling stars. They spent each one of their days celebrating their life and love to the fullest, knowing that their time together was comparatively much shorter now and determined to not waste a single one.

The Pantheon saw this display, and realized that their plan had backfired. And so, determined to have their way and punish the lovers for their defiance they decided to take matters a step further: They found a man in a nearby village who lusted for Shadow's human form, and promised that she would be his if he killed Light.

The God of Love, who in observing his former fellow Goddesses had come to understand the beauty of true love in humans, feared for their safety and so sought to warn lovers of what the others were planning. He took the unassuming form of a black and yellow insect, appeared in the lovers' garden, and told them that they must flee the village tonight if they wished to keep living. If they took refuge in a shrine north of the village, then he could protect them until the other Gods' influence over the lustful man faded.

Although Light and Shadow had no reason to trust Love, who had not spoken up in their defense in the past, they decided to heed his warning and fled. Heading through the forest the surrounded their village, making their way up the rugged mountain path, they found the shrine. Asking for sanctuary, they were allowed to spend the night. And a night became a week, which became a month.

On the night of the full moon, tired of hiding, Light and Shadow left the shrine and returned to their village – only to find that it had been set ablaze by the man whom the Gods had chosen to act out their divine edict. He had grown furious, certain that the villagers were hiding his precious Shadow from them. He'd gone on a rampage, and now the home that Light and Shadow called their own was up in flames.

Furious that their fellow Gods would never let them be at peace the lovers returned to the shrine, hunted down by the spite and lust filled man. They barricaded themselves in the shrine one final time, and under the protective eye of the God of Love they made one final vow to each other:

“No matter how many lifetimes it takes, we will find each other again.”

“Until we find and know true peace and love.”

“I promise to love you, always.”

“I vow to love you, forever.”

The pair of lovers exchanged rings and a kiss, swearing to love each other for the rest of this life and whatever came after it, hoping to be reunited and to continue the love that would be cut short this night by the spiteful gods. And that night, under influence from the gods, the man set fire to the shrine, cursing and screaming into the flames that he would not know peace until he was given what the Gods had promised him; and in his blind rage, he too was consumed by the flames.

What happened after this night has been lost to the sands of time, but it is believed that the Goddesses of Light and Shadow – who had once been the sun and moon in the sky – have continued the cycle of life and death in search of peace, of a life in which they are permitted to live, love, and grow older as their former fellow Gods had once cursed them with believing it to be a punishment.

Countless stories of forbidden or tragic love told throughout history in different regions who had no influence on each other until more modern times are believed to be the continuous tale of the Goddess Lovers, always haunted by the specter of spite and vengeful but always hopeful that one day they will be allowed to have their happy ending and see what lies beyond this mortal coil – together.

But for now, the story continues.

* * *

“Well?” Blake asked once she finished reading the passage. “What do you think?”

Yang raised an eyebrow and asked, “Think about what? It was a nice story, if that's what you mean!”

They were relaxing in bed, Yang having just come back from her sparring session with Nora at the Academy gym. She still had on her workout sweats and orange tank top and desperately needed to take a shower, but Blake had insisted on reading her something that she'd found in an old book of fairy tales at the campus library.

Blake set the book down on their nightstand and said, “But what if it wasn't a story? Doesn't it sound a little _familiar?”_

Yang blinked several times, and Blake could practically hear the gears in her brain spinning and whirring as she attempted to make whatever connection she was supposed to be making.

But after a few seconds the blonde shrugged and said, “I guess it sounds like the plot of a Dischnee movie, but I haven't watched those since Ruby was little so I couldn't tell you which one.”

“Yang, be serious!” Blake scowled. “You really can't think of _anywhere_ else that you've seen or heard this story?”

Yang's blank expression was enough of an indication that she couldn't, and Blake let out an exasperated sigh.

“It's _us_ , you dork!” She said. “This story is about _us!”_

Yang didn't say anything at first, but then she burst into a fit of laughter, clutching her sides and rolling around the bed.

“Are you _serious?_ ” She wheezed. “You think that we're _gods?!”_

“ _Former_ gods, reincarnated as...people...” Blake started her retort with fire in her tone, but as she said the words out loud she lost steam and now only felt heat rising in her cheeks. “Well, it sounded better in my head!”

Yang stopped laughing, sat up, and ran her hands through her hair; she _really_ needed to take a shower, but this felt more important.

“Babe, I know there's definitely something... _special_ about us – our memories are proof of that. And yeah, that story _does_ sound like our earliest memory. But there's no way that we're actual, literal gods who came to earth just to be in love.”

“But it makes sense!” Blake argued. “The lovers who stood in front of that shrine while everything was on fire, the words that they spoke, the fact that _he's_ been a clear and present danger for every one of our past lives! It's all too much to be a coincidence, don't you think?”

“Maybe it's _not_ a coincidence?” Yang countered. For a second Blake thought she had convinced her girlfriend but then Yang added, “What if _we're_ the ones who wrote that story?”

“Yeah, that's what I'm saying!”

“No.” Yang shook her head. “I mean, what if one of us – you, most likely – _actually_ wrote that story once upon a time? What if you wrote it as a way to make sense of what we are?”

“ _Or!_ What if I wrote it in case we forgot who we originally were?” Blake said, determined to convince Yang to see things her way. “Isn't that just as likely, given our current predicament?”

Yang sighed and said with a shrug, “I guess it's _technically_ possible. Feels like anything is possible when it comes to us. But I don't think that's quite it. I'm sorry, babe. I'm gonna go take a shower, okay? I _know_ you can smell how badly I need one!”

Blake could, and was in fact resisting the urge to scrunch up her nose, but this had been important to her. She wanted to keep arguing, but truthfully she didn't have much ammunition beyond this singular passage in an old book of fairy tales and some preliminary research she'd done online; it hadn't yielded many results, aside from a few scholarly analyses on the meaning behind the story.

So she let out a defeated sigh. “Fine. Go take your shower, I'll get dinner started.”

“Wait. I thought it was my turn to make dinner tonight?”

“I'm...still recovering from the last time you made dinner.” Blake grimaced; she loved Yang with all her heart, but all the love in the world couldn't guard her poor stomach from her girlfriend's cooking.

Yang scowled, then stuck out her tongue before disappearing into the bathroom.

Blake took one last look at the weathered, yellowed pages of the old fairy tale book, at the accompanying illustration of the two goddesses who personified Light and Shadow, the sun and the moon. She absentmindedly fiddled with the ring she wore around her neck, the old treasure she believed was the very same ring that Yang had given her in their first lives.

She still believed that she was right, and would continue doing research until she could prove it to Yang: This old children's story was _their_ first love story, she knew it, _felt_ it in every fiber of her being!


End file.
